


licorice lips and listless fingertips

by ExyCherry



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Drug Addiction, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, andrew and katelyn get along
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:22:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25421581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExyCherry/pseuds/ExyCherry
Summary: don't take a hit / don't kiss my lipsloosely based onWish You Were Sober by Conan Gray
Relationships: Aaron Minyard & Andrew Minyard, Katelyn & Andrew Minyard, Katelyn/Aaron Minyard
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	licorice lips and listless fingertips

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warnings for drug relapse.
> 
> many thanks to [Wishopenastar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wishopenastar/pseuds/Wishopenastar) for beta'ing for me!

_“I need help, Kate.”_

Aaron’s words echo in her mind as she walks home in the dark. This is the third (fourth?) time since he’d first begged for her help that he’s immediately turned her away. It breaks her heart seeing him so frenzied, yet still so insistent that he’s fine. But she won’t stay if he tells her to go, because she’s a strong woman and if he wants her help so badly he should stop pretending that he doesn’t.

_“I’m fine, Kate. Don’t worry about me.”_

She’s worried. Terrified, even. After his trial he’d been so relieved, but she still sees the ghosts lingering in his eyes when she holds him at night, even five years later (the nights he lets her, anyway; they’re growing fewer and fewer lately). He’d asked her to let him handle it, and she’d trusted him to do what he needed to. She should never have left him to deal with it alone.

It’s her fault he’s back on the drugs. She can’t get out of this cycle of self-blaming, because she had seen this happen before. Her sister had asked to be left alone too. Her grave is a ten minute drive from their childhood home.

_“I promise, Katie. I’ll be okay.”_

He’s not okay. He’s most definitely not okay, but what can she do? He won’t go to rehab, and he won’t let her near him long enough to keep him away from the drugs. Two days at most, if she’s lucky. She’d flushed his stash the first time she found it; he’d fallen at her feet and asked why. The next time he let her see him again, any drugs he may have had were hidden beyond a simple snoop.

She wants to take his hands and tell him that it’ll be okay, she’ll help him, he’s strong enough to get through this. She wants to tell Andrew, but she doesn’t think she can bear to face the harsh reality that she failed (she’s getting desperate; she knows she’ll have to eventually). She wants to scream into the empty sky and let the moon take away his pain. She’s willing to lay down her life for him.

It’s cold. She wants to hold his hand, steal his jacket, tease him when the arms are too short, kiss his face as he blushes. She wants him to be okay. With a final breath, she unlocks her phone and speaks.

_“I love you, Katelyn. I won’t let it get out of control. It’s just a night out with some guys.”_

Andrew is silent on the other end of the call. He doesn’t have to speak for her to know he’s going to handle it. She wants to help, but the odds of him letting her are slim to none. At least, that’s what she thinks, until he asks her to meet him at Aaron’s apartment.

They never did get a place together. It would have been too much commuting to and from work, even halfway between their respective hospitals. They alternate trips back and forth instead, and they make do with what they have. It’s not ideal, but it’s nice, and it’s all theirs.

His drawer at her place is full of sweatshirts that she’s stolen from him, regardless of the fact that they hardly fit her. It’s comical, really, that his college sweatshirts fit better than his newer ones. She supposes he’d been more muscular then, and the time away from exy had let him relax into a much leaner figure. It’s easier to pick him up now.

The walk back to his apartment isn’t long, since she’d really only made it three blocks towards the park before deciding she needed help to help him. Her car is parked across the street from his complex. She considers kidnapping him and dragging him to rehab, decides that will go very poorly, and instead unlocks her car to dig her emergency stash of Marlboro Reds out of the glove box.

_“Kate. Katie. Katelyn. Sweetheart, look at me. I have it under control. I promise. I love you.”_

It’s a terrible, terrible habit. She only smokes when she’s desperate, and she hardly finishes a cigarette every time. Tonight, she lights a second.

“Those are bad for your health.”

Andrew is standing next to her. His stealth has always been startling. She doesn’t have the grace to pretend she’d known he was there beforehand.

“I know.”

They stand in silence. Their relationship isn’t close by any means, but he’s grown to tolerate her over the years, and she supposes that’s the best she’ll get. Neil, on the other hand, she has no connection to whatsoever. They’ve had enough conversations to count on one hand, and only when the twins were there with them. 

_“I won’t end up like my mom, Katelyn. I don’t have a problem.”_

Aaron isn’t speaking; he’s uncomfortably still, too, and she wants to hold him. Instead, she folds her hands in her lap and straightens her back. Andrew is equally silent on the couch beside her (not as far apart as he usually sits, she notices, but that’s not something to dwell on now).

“Aaron,” Andrew says. 

“I told you I have it under control,” Aaron bites back. It’s directed at her. She doesn’t flinch.

“Shut up,” Andrew replies simply. 

“Katie—”

“He told you to stop talking, Aar.”

_“I’m sorry.”_

It doesn’t take much convincing for him to admit that he does, in fact, have a problem. The issue lies in his unwillingness to seek help. She refuses to cry in front of him. She won’t guilt trip him into recovery. It has to be something he wants in order for it to take root.

He won’t look at her now. He’s finally, finally, making signs like he’s hearing what they’re saying, bouncing his leg and nodding at random intervals. She’s glad Andrew does most of the talking.

“Don’t let him win,” Andrew says. No one needs to ask what he means.

She wants to hug him. He’ll punch her if she tries, so she nods in agreement and hopes he can see the thanks in her face. If he does, he doesn’t show it. She doesn’t expect him to.

There’s a tender, fragile silence between them now. She’s afraid to breathe and dissolve whatever Aaron may have elected to take into consideration. She’s so in love it hurts, and now she decides she’s allowed to cry. It’s nothing showy, not a Hollywood moment to stun the masses into electric silence as they feel her pain through the television screen. It’s just a single stray tear racing down her cheek.

Andrew doesn’t look at her. Neither does Aaron. They’re locked in an intense staring match, and it shocks her when he finally relents. It’s not her that has to save him this time, but she doesn’t care. He’s going to be okay.

“Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> as always, you can find me on tumblr [@crows-scones-and-exy-thrones](https://crows-scones-and-exy-thrones.tumblr.com/). if you enjoy my work, consider donating to [my ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/jupitercorvusprior)!


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